An Unspoken Wish
by LadyGrey69
Summary: A challenge issued at DA, to finish the statement, "Funny thing that you should mention that, Sarah, because..." or write it into a short story. I thought about it, and a story idea came to me almost immediately.


Disclaimer: Don't own Labyrinth, never will. Such a pity.

Summary: A challenge issued at DA, accompanying the gorgeous picture located here: DA Challenge to finish the statement, "Funny thing that you should mention that, Sarah, because..." or write it into a short story. I thought about it, and a story idea came to me almost immediately.

Author's Notes: This may look like my first fan fiction, but I not only write in another genre under a different name, but I also used to write Labyrinth fic under a different name. ;-)

Rating: PG-13 to be safe

An Unspoken Wish

Sarah Williams, newly twenty-five years old, stood in the park near her childhood home, glancing around in frustration. "What's going on?" she murmured, frustrated. Above her, the gray sky rumbled an incomprehensible answer. "This is crazy."

But then, perhaps _she_ was crazy. Why in the world had she been driven to come back to this place after all these... She frowned. She had run the Labyrinth when she was fifteen. She was twenty-five now. Her heart fluttered. Ten years. With a jolt it came to her: this was the decade anniversary of her run. Toby was now an almost-eleven-year-old boy, safe and sound a few blocks away in the home her father and step-mother had purchased when they were wed.

Sarah hadn't even stopped by to see them yet, so great had her haste been to get here. Why? She still had no idea. All she knew was that some force had prevailed upon her and she had been helpless to stop her car from driving to her home town from the big city where she now lived, a hundred miles away. A city she hated, where she worked at a job she loathed and lived in a tiny apartment she despised. Her life hadn't turned out as she had planned, to her bitter disappointment. It wasn't even possible for her to keep a boyfriend... not that she'd ever had one she wanted to keep.

Every time she became involved with anyone, they realized after a few dates that Sarah wasn't a happy person. She herself knew it. It was as if something was missing from her life that she would never find here... not in the city she lived in, not in the _world_ she lived in. With sudden clarity, she knew why she was here. Perversely, the very thing she knew could bring her happiness was the very thing she had been avoiding for ten years.

"Oh, no," she said out loud, backing away from the spot where she had rehearsed lines from a favorite book as an owl had avidly watched. "No, you don't."

The clouds above reverberated with a loud clap of thunder and then released a torrent. In seconds, Sarah was soaked to the skin and shivering in her jeans, emerald green T-shirt and purple flip-flops. "Crap!" she exclaimed richly, used to avoiding real swear words for Toby's sake. "Crap, crap, crappity-crap!"

In her haste to get to her car, she dropped her keys. She stooped to grab them, about to utter a more flavorful curse. But when she rose, she gasped. An owl sat on the bridge railing, watching her intently. "No. No, no, no."

The owl fluffed itself, seemingly impervious to the rain falling around them. Sarah blinked, and the owl was gone. Frowning slightly, she walked toward where it had been, glancing up into the air to see if it was in flight. But it was gone. Perhaps she had merely imagined it there. She was crazy, after all... right?

Sarah laughed, a slightly hysterical sound. "Good," she shouted into the sky. "I don't want you anyway!" Tears pricked her eyes and ran down her cheeks, mingling with the rain. What a conflicted, contrary woman she was! First she didn't want the owl to be there, and when he obligingly disappeared, she missed his presence. For he was no mere owl.

"I don't fear you," she went on, her voice choking on a sob. He had appeared to taunt her, she knew it. It was him who had driven her to come here, him who was invading her dreams, whispering promises he never intended to fulfill. "I don't love you. And I certainly would never do as you say, you... you _jerk!_"

"Funny thing that you should mention that, Sarah, because if you didn't fear me, love me, and secretly wish to do as I say, I would not be able to be here right now," he said, his voice laced with dry amusement and something else... confidence. Smug confidence, the bastard!

The rain had stopped. Sarah didn't know when, but it wasn't even sprinkling any more. She whirled around and immediately backed away from him. He stood before her, completely dry, damn him. Black leather pants, black boots, a stark white poet's shirt open to reveal an expanse of muscled chest, and a burgundy cape flapping in the wind. He looked... magnificent. She looked... like a drowned rat.

"What?" she demanded.

He tsk'd and rolled his eyes. "Really, Sarah, do try to follow along," he drawled. "I am here by your unspoken command. I am, after all, your slave. Do you not remember?"

Sarah scowled at him. "I didn't command you to come here," she argued. "Go away."

"If you really wanted me to go away, I would have no choice but to oblige you, Precious," he replied patiently. "I have already explained that I am here because _you want me _to be here."

She opened her mouth to protest, but the words died before they could be uttered. Was it true? If she were honest with herself, she would acknowledge that her life was not what she wanted. She knew she would never find true love because she compared every man she met to the ridiculously sexy one before her now. Her family, other than Toby, while they loved her, treated her like someone to be visited with a few times a year and then sent on her merry way back to the city.

In her heart, she had secretly wished that she had accepted the Goblin King's proposal... for it _was_ a proposal, wasn't it?... ten years ago. True, she'd been far too young at the time, but she somehow sensed that he had known that, and would have given her time to grow up. How she knew that was incomprehensible. She just knew. And now... here he was, claiming that he was only here - could only be here - at her behest.

But did he want her? Did he want to be here right now? Or was he pissed off that he'd been called upon by a dripping wet, aimless girl? Was it possible he had a wife waiting for him Underground? Licking her lips, she met his impatient gaze with uncharacteristic apprehension.

"I don't want a slave," she said slowly, attempting to gather her thoughts.

He sighed. "All evidence to the contrary. We have covered this ground, Sarah, and I grow weary waiting for you to make up your mind."

"Make up my mind about what?" she queried.

"About whether you want to be my queen or finally, once and for all, set me free!" He ended on a rasp, the words taking a dramatic toll upon him for reasons Sarah found impossible to fathom. His face belied his words, however; he was staring her down looking for all the world like he hated the sight of her.

She felt her temper flare but pushed it aside. It suddenly seemed vital that she not chase him off. Something deep inside her, something primal and desperate, was calling out for him to touch her, to take her in his arms. Still, she didn't want to appear pathetic. Lifting her chin, she stated calmly, "You didn't let me finish, Your Highness." His wince as she used a formal title for him was surprising, but gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Use my name, Sarah," he said, his tone commanding and brooking no argument.

Shaking her head, she said, "Not just yet."

"Yet?" he questioned, his gaze sharpening in curiosity and interest. But again, the mask of indifference fell and he added, "As you wish."

"It really comes down to that? What I wish?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she watched him for signs of dishonesty.

He rolled his eyes, a strangely human reaction. "You really are a dense thing, aren't you, Precious? Yes. I am bound to honor your wishes. To a degree. But I am only able to do that much because you have, apparently, honored your part."

"To..." She paused, bit her lip. Her part. "To fear you, love you, and do as you say?"

Inclining his head, he lifted one arched brow. "It's the only way I can be here. As you stated at our last meeting that I had no power over you, I have been bound by that until now. However, the mere fact that I was able to appear when you wished for me..." He left the sentence unfinished.

"But I didn't," she protested.

He shrugged elegantly. "Perhaps not in so many words."

Exasperated, she determined to find out how he felt about it. "Do you want to be freed?"

"What?" He glanced at her sharply, suspiciously.

She said again, enunciating every word, "Do you want to be freed? How do you feel about this whole thing? Amused? Irritated? Vengeful?"

A small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes briefly made his lips all the more appealing. "Vengeful, Precious? No. Not vengeful."

"Well then?" she prompted.

He stared at her. "Why are you asking me? What I feel and what I want is irrelevant."

"Not to me," she said softly.

Leaning closer, he replied, "What was that, Sarah? You'll have to speak up."

"I said it's not irrelevant to me," she said again, taking a step back. She couldn't think clearly when he was so close. "I... I need to know what you want. It matters to me. It... it'll affect what I do."

He seemed genuinely taken aback at her words. In that moment, he looked... vulnerable. Yet she saw something else, as well. Then, once again, the hard, untouchable Goblin King was back. Folding his arms over his chest, "Sarah... I grow tired of this conversation. You will tell me what you want. I will fulfill your wish, whatever it may be. If you choose to deny that you truly want me here, all you have to do is say the words and I will be gone."

Though he hadn't vocally answered her, Sarah's insistent wish to know his feelings had nevertheless been granted. The few seconds his countenance had slipped, she had seen fierce devotion and ardent love in his eyes. He had looked at her as though she were the most important thing in the world to him. It reminded her of the last time she had seen him, the time he had asked her to stop, wait, and reconsider what she was about to do. And again, after she said the words, in the utter devastation and disappointment she had seen clearly in his face.

But something more pressing was bothering her right now. "I wish to be dry," she said, a small smile playing about the corners of her mouth.

"Pardon?" he asked, clearly confused.

"Dry, Goblin King, must I spell it out?" she asked imperiously. "I want to be dry."

He nodded curtly, his expression annoyed. With a wave of his hand, she was indeed dry, even her hair. Glancing down, she found herself in a gown very similar to the one she used to play in... her favorite ivory costume with the wide bell sleeves. In another moment, she realized her hair was up, a small wreath of flowers atop her head like a crown. She looked up at the Goblin King, a question in her eyes.

"I always did find you quite charming in such attire," he said, his voice softening. "And you didn't specify that you wished to be dry in your vagabond-like attire."

Sarah was unable to keep the grin off her face. "You're right, I didn't." And she realized that, for the first time in ten years, she was truly happy. The king was watching her with a kind of amused speculation, but when she looked up at him he again carefully schooled his features into a blank stare.

"So," she said.

He waited while she tried to formulate her words, but obviously took her prolonged silence for rejection. "Just say your right words, Sarah, and I shall leave you alone."

Before he could go on, because it was clear that he had more to say, she cut in. "Funny that you should mention that, Jareth..."

At her use of his name, he startled. "Yes?" he asked coldly, looking formidable.

Instead of finishing her sentence right away, she stepped closer to him until their bodies were almost touching. She trailed her index finger along his jaw, watching for a reaction. His expression didn't change, but he shuddered bodily. Boldly, Sarah continued her exploration, moving her finger down his chin, over his Adam's apple and onto his chest, sliding over his pendant.

"What are you playing at, Sarah Williams?" he demanded gruffly, grabbing her hand and stilling it. "Do not think to toy with me, or I'll not hesitate to bog you or stuff you into a tiny oubliette."

She shrugged, onto him. "All I would have to do is make a wish and you would have to let me out. And debog me," she added thoughtfully. "Although it's a shame to consider being a queen who smells of the bog."

"What?" he exclaimed, and she knew he was questioning whether he had heard her correctly.

Using her free hand, for the other was still being grasped in the Goblin King's leather encased one, she traipsed her fingers down his chest and into the collar of his shirt. "My, but you _are _dense, _Jareth,_" she drawled in perfect imitation of him. "I would think it's rather obvious. I've called you by your name, as you requested, said - though admittedly not in so many words - that I'll be your queen. Isn't it rather obvious that I fear you?" Leaning closer, she kissed his chest. "That I... _love _you?" Raising on tiptoe, she kissed his jaw, then skimmed her tongue over the smooth skin. "And that I'm willing to do as you say?"

Jareth's head fell back as his arms snaked around Sarah's waist, pulling her flush against his lean body. His breath was ragged, and if his dancing pendant was any indication, his heart was racing.

"There's only one thing I disagree with," she stated.

He lifted his head to look at her with renewed suspicion. "And what would that be?"

"I don't want you to be my slave," she replied forcefully. "I never wished for that."

Smiling slyly, he said, "Precious, who ever said that being your slave was _your _wish?"

"I..." She stared back at him, widening her eyes as understanding dawned. "Oh!"

It was all she could utter before his lips came crashing down on hers and he kissed her with a wild sweetness she had never known was possible in reality. He tasted and smelled of magic, spices, and leather, a heady combination. His hands were everywhere, exploring her as if he would never get another chance to touch her. She whimpered against his mouth, pressing her body closer to his. It was all the encouragement he needed.

"Sarah," he murmured. "What is your wish, Precious?"

"I wish the Goblin King would take me away... right now."

###

"Mom!" the little red-headed girl cried.

Her mother looked up from her book, squinting in the post-storm sunshine. "Yes, Cyndi?"

Cyndi raced over to the bridge, calling, "The king and the princess were just there, and then they disappeared!"

With a sigh, the woman stood and followed her daughter. "What have I told you about your wild imagination?"

"It's true," Cyndi insisted starting to whine. "Look where they were. See all this glitter?"

"It's just glitter," her mother replied. "There was probably a party here on the weekend, that's all."

Cyndi smiled, holding out her little hands. "Then why is some of it still floating in the air?"

Very faintly, they both heard laughter, then the sound of an aristocratic voice saying, "Oh, Precious... I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my charms..." and just as faintly, a feminine one answered with, "Don't flatter yourself, fancy-pants!"

"Oh my gosh..." Cyndi's mother whispered.

The little girl smiled. "They're going to get married and live happily ever after. Fairy tales are real, Mom!"

"I guess they are..."

The end


End file.
